Thursday, March 19, 2015

St. Patrick's Day Conversation...

Normally, when we text, I'll screen-cap the shit out of our convo and share it. You'd think that'd be less work than typing it out, but it really isn't. Well, in this case, I'm going to type it out because the Disabled Guy's texts were full of misspellings and in between our discussion, we had a few random things and I just don't feel like editing out those random things. But, the conversation that follows is the actual conversation with his misspellings and text-speak corrected because even though it's great that he can text, his text-speak annoys the hell out of me. (actually, anybody's text speak annoys me).

This all started with him sending me a text, wishing me a Happy St. Patrick's Day. And if you know him, you know he doesn't even like the real holidays- like Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, family birthdays, our anniversary.

DG: "Have a good Saint Patrick Day."

Me: "I don't drink. Or have anything green to wear. DEAR GOD! I'M GONNA DIE IF I GO OUTSIDE!! Saint Pats celebrators are like zombies. "Green. GREEEEN!"..."

DG: "I don't have a green shirt either. Of course, I don't have brains either."

Me: "You have a green t-shirt. I can see it from here. And St Pat's people don't want your brains. THEY WANT YOUR GREENS!"

DG: "Well, I don't have it here. But you can wear it."

Me: "I wear 3XL, I can't wear it."

DG: "Ok."

Me: "We're gonna die! St Pats are coming to get us!"

DG: "Not me."

Me: "Oh, they'll find you. THEY ALWAYS FIND YOU!"

DG: "But I'm blessed."

Me: "No one is! SAINT Patrick's Day. We're all gonna die!"

DG: "You're so negative."

Me: "No, I'm just realistic about the green zombies."

DG: "Yes, you so are."

Me: "GREEN ZOMBIE!!" and I sent that with this picture (I Googled "green zombie" on my phone).

DG: "Good God. You are going to die!"

Me: "He's on his way there. I gave him directions to your parents' house. It'll take a few weeks, he bought a ticket on Greyhound."

DG: "Good to know."

Then he sent me a photo of himself, wearing a towel, and said: "Watch out. The one-eyed monster will get you."

Me: "Not here. I'm safer from that than you are from the zombie."

DG: "Ok, but it's out there."

Me: "Not any that are interested in me. Those don't exist anymore."

DG: "You keep thinking that way and then it's going to eat you up."

Me: "Are you talking about zombies or your dick?"

DG: "Both."

Me: "Well, your dick is too far away and the green zombie is on a Greyhound bus."

His reply to that was a photo of him wearing a "Bazinga!" T-shirt with green lettering on it. He said: "I'm saved!"

I sent him a photo of a closeup of my eye and said that I have green flecks in my eye. He then informed me that I might be saved.

And just as quickly as the story escalated, it ended.

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Textually Speaking 2015

I'm sorry I haven't updated in quite a while. It isn't because we haven't had conversations. We have, but they're not always memorable or sometimes I just plain old forget them. The new pain meds for my fibro sort of scatter my brain cells into different realms and if I don't write something down, I'll forget it.

I have posted a few things in the Facebook Group. It's a public group, so you don't really even have to be a member of it to see the posts.

I've been meaning to post this conversation for a couple days, but I kept procrastinating myself out of it. Well, here it is- Textually Speaking 2015 edition. (he's yellow, I'm blue; in case you didn't know)

This is just as random as it seems. We were talking about something related to finances just about an hour and a half before this (as you can see in the time-stamp above his first text). So I was literally cooking dinner when he just texted that word to me. And this happened.

Sunday, December 21, 2014

A story, but it's about the Disabled Guy- and a convo at the end...

This story was brought on by this article about epilepsy on Cracked-dot-com. I started to share the link on Facebook, but the story about the Disabled Guy became kind of long and I thought, "Hey, dumbass, why don't you update his blog because you suck at that lately..." so, I did...

The Disabled Guy doesn't have epilepsy, but he's had (at least) two seizures related to his stroke. (he's very well-maintained on daily seizure meds). I've witnessed two of his seizures, one in our home in the middle of the night and the other in the ER. The first was very movie-worthy with all the flailing and noises. The second was in the middle of the day and I'd called an ambulance because the way he was behaving pre-seizure made me think he was having another stroke.

At the ER, he was both combative and incoherent. I had to leave his side to call in to work and let them know I couldn't go in that night (I was a night shift security guard, and to complicate things- it was a holiday weekend and I was a shift supervisor). When I got back, he was shouting and grasping at the door frame and swearing at the nurses because they were trying to take him for a cat scan. I grabbed his hand and said: "What the hell are you doing?" (or something similar) and he replied: "Where the hell have you been!?" Before I could reply, he started seizing. I immediately let go of his hand and took three giant steps away from his bedside as the doctor and nurses swooped in. They were getting ready to sedate him and the doctor told the nurse to go ahead with it.

So, that second seizure wasn't quite as violent. After they took him to run the tests, the doctor told me that was the first time he'd seen any family member react "so perfectly" to a seizure. "You let go, you got out of the way..." sort of thing. I just shrugged and said something along the lines of: "You guys deal with this thing, I was just trying to get out of the way", except not nearly as clever, I'm sure.

And a few months ago, he decided to say "fuck you" to reason and cut his seizure meds in half.

But, if you read that article, it talks about the driving restrictions and such. In Georgia, he had to wait a full year, so he never actually got his license back in Georgia. In Wisconsin, it was six months. Since he's been seizure-free for so long, he doesn't even have to have followups related to his license. It's been since 1997, so my memory is fuzzy on the followups, but I seem to recall having to go in every few months to make sure things were all fine and dandy.

Anyway, go on and read that article. It was funny and informative. And here's a little conversation we had last night, shortly before I gave up trying to sleep and got out of bed. I went to bed at 1030 PM, DG came to bed around midnight and I was still wide freakin' awake. (I wrote a blog post about it on my fibro blog).

So, first a little explanation- we don't really have "a favorite movie" because, as you may know, DG is a bit of a collector. (we have well over a thousand DVDs). But, we do have movies we love and will watch over and over. The list is long and it changes from time to time. Right now, one of my favorites is a ridiculous and silly action flick called "The Baytown Outlaws" starring Clayne Crawford, Travis Fimmel (from "Vikings"), and Daniel Cudmore (he played "Felix" in the Twilight flicks, apparently). In smaller roles- there's one of the Evas (Longoria) and Billy Bob Thornton. Now, I love me some Billy Bob and the fact that Clayne Crawford was in it too? Well, I knew I'd enjoy this flick. The movie is hilarious and violent and ridiculous and Crawford is awesome and Billy Bob is at his evil drug-lord best. And it is one of the few movies I will watch when I catch it on cable (plus, of course, I own the DVD).

Last night, when DG came to bed to find me wide-ass awake, it was on TV. Crawford's character is named "Brick" and as I was getting out of bed, I said: "Who the hell names their son 'Brick'?"

DG said: "Block did. That's his last name." (it isn't, by the way, not in the movie).

I asked: "Did you say Block?"

DG started giggling. "Block. They had a neighbor named Cement. Brick Block and Asphalt Cement dated in high school." (he pronounced "Asphalt" as "Azz-fault"). He continued to giggle.

So I said: "But what? It didn't work out because they were from two different worlds?"

Through his giggling, he stated: "One is for buildings. The other is for roads. They were doomed. DOOMED!" and then his giggle-fit turned into a full-blown laugh-out where he had to "ooh" to catch his breath.

But if you like action-y flicks that are ridiculous on their action level, check it out. I know I enjoy it.

OH- and completely unrelated- DG said he'd pose with me for another photo, so we can update from this one. (I no longer dye my hair black). So, that'll be cool... maybe this time, he'll cooperate and it'll take fewer attempts to get a shot.

From 2012- (click on the photo if you'd like to see the details)

238 of 365+1 part 3: For My Dad

Edited to add- the new photo!

312 of 365 part 5: Me and the Disabled Guy

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

So many missed conversations...

I am so sorry for not updating this blog more often. I really am. I have no excuse other than I've been forgetting details of our conversations too quickly. I usually write little notes with key details so I can remember them later, but I haven't been doing that very much. (sometimes, like today, I will text to my email the entire conversation as it happens, so I can go back to it and write it up).

Anyway, where to start? So many conversations are just *poof* gone now. And there are a few updates in The Official Conversations with the Disabled Guy Facebook Group. I'm sure I could have put a few of those into a blog post, but I've been so lazy about things lately (even my fibro blog went a month or so without updates). It was partly due to the fibro. In the last six months, I've gone through two medication changes (because they weren't working for me). That sorta Swiss-cheeses the brain for short-term memory. I'll link to the short updates, so you don't have to scroll through everything on that page.

October 28th- Setting things on Fire

November 3rd- Teslacon and Thee Bluebeard

November 15th- "Welp, it's snowing."

November 28th- "Falmunctioning Angel"

December 6th- Thee Bluebeard and Santa

But... here I am! And today, I texted a conversation to myself.

Firstly, I was invited to an event in January. There's a fee. And it happens ON the Disabled Guy's birthday. I was fully expecting him to say something about it, like he didn't want me to go or the fee (which is $30) was the killer. But this is the conversation that took place...

Me: "I was invited to a thing on Janu-"

DG: "Okay."

Me: "-ary 11th."

DG: "I said okay."

Me: "But that's your birthday."

DG: "So? Just a day. Go to your thing. Go."

Me: "You're totally cool with spending the whole day by yourself?"

DG: "Have fun."

Me: "Alright... gonna be $30."

DG: "I *SAID* 'okay'!"

I suspect that there is either something NASCAR related happening on TV (because his birthday is about a month before the Daytona 500) or he's got some train building thing already planned and doesn't care if I'm around. (also, he hates it when anyone makes a big deal about his birthday. I bake him a cake, that's about all he can handle. If I get him a present, I don't even wrap it).

Today, we were at the store and in the checkout line, I noticed there was a bit of cobweb from our basement ceiling on his baseball cap. So, I pulled it off and said: "You had cobweb on your hat."

He exclaimed: "Hey! I was savin' that!"

Me: "For what?"

DG: "For one of those days. You know, when I'm out there and I have it on my hat and I can just [swooshing sound with hand gesture] throw it out there and crawl across it."

Me: "And then what?"

DG: "And then I get away. Didn't you read the script?"

Me: "I didn't know they were making this into a movie."

DG: "Psh, don't you know? They make everything into a movie."

Me: "Even disabled guys and cobwebs?"

DG: "Yeah. Because that's a good story there."

Friday, October 24, 2014

"I'm gonna shoot you!" (spoiler alert- we don't own any guns)

This is one of our dogs- Gregg the Girl Dog with a Boy Name (we just call her Gregg). Uh, I didn't name her.

She's approximately six pounds... with two hundred pounds of adorable attitude.

This morning, she did what she usually does- she was barking at imagined things. She barks up the stairs at the cats, even if the cats aren't sitting where she can see them, because they MIGHT BE THERE! And her style of barking is a slow and steady beat of a high-pitched: "BARK! BARK! BARK!" as if a human were just yelling: "HEY! HEY! HEY!" (except for twenty-seven consecutive times).

The Disabled Guy usually tells the dogs to hush by saying: "I'm gonna shoot you!" and today was no different. So, I asked: "With what? A rubber band?"

DG: "Maybe! You don't know. I could have a gun."

Me: "Except you don't. We don't own any guns."

DG: "I have a gun. I just don't have ammo for it."

Me: "Right, because they just don't make ammo for guns anymore."

DG: "Not THIS gun!" [and he held up his hand with his thumb up and index finger out.]

Me: "You're going to shoot the tiny dog with an imaginary gun... but you don't have the ammo."

DG: "I can't afford the ammo for this gun anymore."

Me: "Well, it IS rather rare. Of course it's expensive."

DG: "It isn't out there! I've looked!"

Me: "Right. Your imaginary gun isn't going to hurt anyone."

DG: [still holding his hand out all this while] "Hey, I could pistol whip someone with this."

Me: "That would be called 'punching' or 'slapping'."

DG: "Not with this GUN!" [and he held his hand higher.] "I'll just give you a whack and go to town."

Me: "How are you going to hold me down to pistol whip me if you can't hold me with your hand that IS a pistol?"

DG: "I'll just whack you upside the head, fall down on you and then just go to town, pistol whip the shit outta you."

Me: "Okay then... well, I'll keep a lookout for that expensive ammo for your imaginary gun so you don't have to pistol whip anyone to town. It sounds exhausting."

DG: "It is. That's why I don't do it anymore."

Me: "... 'Anymore'? Like you've ever pistol whipped someone with an imaginary gun."

DG: "You don't know. I could have!"

All the while this conversation was going on, Gregg was Bark-Hey-ing up the stairs at the cats who weren't anywhere near the stairs. Gregg is apparently not afraid of an imaginary gun without ammo.

Thursday, October 9, 2014

The Great Train Environment!

The Disabled Guy finally said I could take photos of the progress he's making on his train set. He hadn't let me take photos before, so despite only having my phone on me, I took photos. I didn't want to give him time to change his mind by going downstairs to get my real camera. He's quite proud of himself- and he should be, because he's tackled this task with the same focus and dedication he has for carpentry.

First off, he created the framework for this, an almost-chest-high table with very large drawers and a cabinet underneath. The base is pine and the foundation of the train area is Styrofoam over plywood. The mountains were made from newspaper wads and some kind of plastering agent (he got it at "the train store"). He built the trees by hand, gluing bits of greenery on the little plastic trees. He even went outside and found twigs and dead leaf/sticks to use for his fallen trees. The smaller rocks (and the rocks that will be in the corner) are plaster from rubber molds he bought from the train store. He used the molds as a base, then sanded/added things after it was dry to change their appearance.

And I don't need to remind you that he does all of this one-handed. He wants me to stress- THIS IS IN PROGRESS! It isn't in any way close to being done yet. Also, you should admire his headlight. He thinks he's hilarious by wearing it for model-building. I tried to bring him back to earth by telling him that's one of the intended uses, but he doesn't care.


Also worth noting, he needs a haircut!

Monday, September 29, 2014

The Disabled Guy is an enabler...

My name is Patty and I have an addiction. I love Dr Martens boots. I have spent far too much money in the last year on boots and despite some exceedingly killer sale prices, I was done. That's it. No more till I NEED them (and with the amount of boots I currently own, that won't be for YEARS).

Anyway, I'm always on the lookout for anything that can be used for Steampunk clothing because the youngest kid and I have only recently joined the Steampunk ranks of nerdism. On the Dr Martens website, they had a hat that I knew the kid would like and it was on sale for $12 (marked down from $40!). She has a similar hat, made of leather...

So, she asked if I could get it for her... and I went upstairs to 'The Train Room' said to the Disabled Guy: "Now I have to buy that pair of boots."

DG: "Which pair?"

Me: "The ones I've been wanting for Teslacon."

DG: "How many pairs do you have now?"

Me: "Hang on, I gotta count..." (I literally started counting on my fingers)

DG: "If you gotta think about it, then you have too many."

Me: "You can never have too many Docs!"

DG: "Yes you can!"

Me: "I have eight pairs, six if we exclude the two pairs specifically for faire." (I didn't get those eight pairs in the last year, I had a few of them already)

DG: "And you only got two feet!"

Me: "I know, and don't they look fantastic?"

DG sighed. I motioned my arm to all his model train stuff laid out before him (which isn't even ALL of his model train stuff) and I sighed. He sighed again and said: "Alright."

Then I said: "And that's how you do things... you tell your spouse you're buying something useless to anyone else but them."

As I was closing the door to the Train Room, DG said: "I gotta stop at the train store tomorrow."

I sighed in a dramatic, overacting way.

He replied: "You know it."